


guide us home

by flyingonfeatherlesswings



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drugging, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Protective Tony, Strangefamily, Supremefamily, Threats of Violence, Torture, just some violence, not really that graphic tho, peter whump, stephen whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 00:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14944332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingonfeatherlesswings/pseuds/flyingonfeatherlesswings
Summary: Stephen was supposed to be alone in the facility.His captors had just wanted to study his magic.Peter wasn't supposed to have been taken too.





	guide us home

**Author's Note:**

> betaed by duskyironstrange on tumblr and meowrails on here 
> 
> inspired on this gif from patrick melrose: https://78.media.tumblr.com/629a765ce053ae25b4500aa3306e2b27/tumblr_pa6r1zKeSv1qhjdd8o5_r1_540.gif

Peter wasn’t supposed to be there. 

The trap had only been set for Doctor Strange, after all. Peter had just been in the vicinity when the man who had seemingly been another master of the mystic arts had appeared in downtown Manhattan. The man had been wearing robes similar to Strange’s and was able to produce those fiery mandalas from his palms. He was loudly spouting off threats; declaring that the end was near and other ramblings. 

Strange and Peter had arrived on the scene around the same time, and Stephen immediately told Peter to leave. “This doesn’t concern you, Peter. Get out of here.”

“Uh, this is my city, Doc, I’m gonna help you if I can.” 

Stephen had sighed and continued forward towards the man. The mysterious man lifted his hand, a purple mandala suspended above it and Stephen’s eyes narrowed. Suddenly his eyes widened and he turned to looked at Peter, crouching on top of a nearby car. “Peter go! It’s not magic! It’s a tra--”. 

Stephen couldn’t get the words out though before they were each enveloped in large claw-like machines that sparked to life and electrocuted them with probably just enough volts not to kill them both. 

Stephen struggled but quickly passed out and the Cloak twitched inside the machine trying to get itself and its master away, but the people who emerged from the alleyways and from under the cars had been prepared for this. One of them emerged with a large orb in his hand; hitting a button on the claw that loosened its mechanical grip. The Cloak wiggled free but was then was sucked up into the orb in the man’s hand, which sealed itself tight.  

Peter laid stunned on top of the car, the suit having protected him from worse injury, but still in a lot of pain. Some of their attackers, covered in swat gear and helmets stormed over  to Peter, who was whimpering as his suit sparked. Karen’s system had been damaged and her voice was mangled but she instructed Peter that she had called Mr. Stark and he was on his way. That was the last bit of hope Peter heard before his neck was injected with a device designed to penetrate his suit. 

The next thing Peter knew he was blinking awake in a dim room that almost looked like a hospital. But the lights were flickering, the floor was just bare concrete and there was no furniture, only a toilet and a sink across from each other on either side of the room. Peter was lay on a gurney, wearing a hospital gown, and was having trouble keeping his eyes open. He turned his head, looking around for any sign of Stephen, but found he was alone. 

He was just about to let unconsciousness reclaim him when the heavy bolted door to the room unlocked and a woman wearing a labcoat came walking in, her heels clicking loudly on the concrete floor. Her black hair was tied up in a neat bun and she wore a blouse over a pencil skirt and was altogether very severe-looking. She was followed by a few others in lab coats. 

“Hello Mr. Parker, how are you feeling?” asked the woman in a neutral voice as he pulled out a penlight and put her hand on Peter’s head, shining the light into the boy’s eyes. Peter flinched away with a groan. 

Peter’s thoughts were still so muddled but one thing seemed clear to him, he was in a facility run by the “bad guys”, whoever these bad guys were. He was getting the sinking feeling that one of his worst nightmares had come true: that he would be experimented on by villains and kept as a lab rat. He couldn’t worry too much for his own well being though. 

“Where’s...Strange?” Peter managed to gasp out as the woman took his pulse and blood pressure. 

“Oh, he’s the man of the hour, so he’s getting all the attention right now. But don’t fret he’ll be in here soon, he’s very worried about you.”

“You experiment on us?” asked Peter. 

“‘Us’? Oh no, Peter. You are extraordinary of course, but super strength and enhanced agility? Science conquered that, made it a chemical formula and put it in a tube. You got your abilities because of science. No, we are interested in making something that is  _ not science _ , into science. We want to take something wild, something that flies freely and is unquantifiable, capture it and put it on a pinboard to study. That’s why we need your friend. That wild thing is _ magic _ .”

“Why me?” asked Peter, growing confused.

“Well, you were unexpected and not planned that’s for sure, but you will still serve a purpose in all of this. You are here to keep Strange in line, he won’t do anything to jeopardize your well-being. You are his weakness and we mean to exploit it.” 

The woman finished her checks, took a clipboard from one of her assistants and wrote a few notes, before patting Peter on the cheek, making the teen flinch. “Now, now, Peter. As long as your friend, Doctor Strange, continues to work with us, everything should go smoothly. Do tell him that, won’t you? Your wellbeing is on the line. Now get some rest.” With that, she smiled briefly, and they exited the room. 

Peter laid there in misery after the grim room had returned to emptiness and silence, save for the buzz of the lightbulbs, hoping and praying that Tony would come soon to save them. 

Peter hadn’t even realized he had dozed off again until the door opened and another gurney was pushed in, this one containing Stephen Strange. He was paler than usual and a sheen of sweat clung to his skin and soaked through his hospital gown. The guards, who were covered from head to toe in tactical military gear that hid their faces, cautiously positioned the gurney on the other side of the room, locking the wheels before leaving. 

“Doctor Strange,” Peter croaked out, trying to sit up. The sorcerer made no motion to respond to Peter and the teen tried again, “Doctor!” 

This time, Stephen’s eyelids fluttered open and slowly took in the boy. “Peter, oh thank goodness, they weren’t lying,” said the older man in a sluggish voice. “Peter, can you get me some water?” 

Peter gingerly got off the gurney and stumbled on coltish legs over to the sink, before cupping his hands and gathering what water he could in them. He turned to Strange and poured some into the older man’s open mouth. 

“Did they hurt you?” asked Peter, repeating the messy process of fetching water several times. 

“No, they just threatened to. And threatened you. I’m...very tired. Harnessing the energies of the multiverse is exhausting and they’ve had me doing it for hours.” Strange had had his fill of water and held up a hand to stop Peter. The boy took a drink himself and went climbed back onto his own gurney and folded his legs in front of him, putting his arms around his legs and his chin on his knees. 

“What do they want?” asked Peter. 

Stephen laughed tiredly, “They want to take my magic and turn it into code, basically.”

“Why?”

“Power of course, the power to go where you want in an instant, the power to harness energy and place that power into weapons. I’ve very powerful, you know,” Stephen turned his head, peeking open one eye and giving Peter a wry smile. “And I’m not special, just studied and changed my way of thinking, but they want to do what I do with a push of the button. It’s not going to happen, you can’t bottle the mystic arts, but that won’t stop them from trying.” 

Stephen closed his eyes again, and turned on his side, trying to get comfortable. Peter stared up at the cracked ceiling, desperate for some hope, “Strange how are we going to---”

“Shush Peter, not right now, okay?” said Strange, “I’m going to get some sleep now, I’ll need it for their next round, I am sure.” 

Strange drifted off quickly, his breathing evening out, and left Peter alone with just his thoughts. 

A few hours later two trays of food were placed in their cell through a slot in the door and Peter got up and fetched both of them. Stephen had been awoken by the delivery, laying on his back with heavy lidded eyes and he pulled a face when Peter offered him what looked like a mix between porridge and gruel. 

“You need to recover some of your strength,” said Peter as he started to eat small spoonfuls, perched on the edge of his gurney. 

“I know, kid. Doctor, remember? It’s probably counter-productive though, considering that whatever they feed us is almost certainly drugged to keep us weak and compliant.”  

Peter dropped the spoon back in the bowl in horror and Stephen gave him a weak smile. “Don’t let that stop you, if you don’t eat it they’ll just inject us and force feed us. My stomach just feels it’s going to turn itself inside-out is all, I’ll eat once it stops roiling.”

After a few more minutes Stephen eventually sat up and ate few spoonfuls, his hands shaking and the porridge falling off the spoon. Their rest was short though; shortly after that their captors came back and took Stephen out for more tests. 

As he was being wheeled out he looked sadly back at Peter, “I’ll be back soon, Peter, don’t worry.”

But he wasn’t back soon, and the hours passed by agonizingly slowly. Stephen must have been right about being drugged because Peter felt dulled and slept some of the time he was alone. But the drugs didn’t stop Peter from letting his mind spiral into thoughts about Stephen not coming back, Stephen escaping without him, Stephen dying during one of their experiments. There was a few moments when the room felt unbearably small and Peter gasped for breath fighting off a full blown panic attack. 

Finally, Stephen was wheeled back in, and it was much worse. This time he bore a cut lip and red marks on his face that would eventually form into ugly bruises. His hands were an angry red and Stephen had them folded protectively over each other on his chest. Peter started to shake as he the captors once again left them. 

Once the door was secured, Peter climbed off his gurney and stood over Stephen, looking the sorcerer up and down for more injuries. “What happened? I thought you said they weren’t hurting you?” asked Peter. 

“Well I wasn’t doing what they wanted and I guess some thought pain might be a motivator, cause a breakthrough,” Stephen winced and held his hands tighter. 

“Did they hurt your hands?” asked Peter, already knowing the answer. 

“Easy target.”

Peter’s panicked breathing came back and his vision blurred. He felt like his body weighed a million pounds and fell to his knees. “Hey now,” said Stephen, pulling himself up and off the gurney and coming to crouch by Peter, rubbing the teen’s back. “Breathe, Peter, breathe for me okay? I’m not going to let them hurt you, and it’ll be okay.” 

“I don’t like...seeing you….hurt!” said Peter between gasps. 

Stephen continued rubbing, and his voice became soft, “Hey, I’m an adult okay? And I’ve been in worse scraps than this. We both have. I mean these guys are humans okay? We’ve fought  _ aliens _ .” 

Peter eventually calmed and Stephen helped him up to sit against the wall behind Stephen’s gurney, the sorcerer sitting next to him. Stephen encouraged him to talk about school, Ned, his favourite movies he had recently watched. Peter tried his best to pretend that he was just having a normal conversation with Strange back at the Sanctum and everything was alright, and that Stephen wasn’t stoically trying to hide a great deal of pain from him. 

Peter knew that Stephen needed his rest, so he went back to his own bed. But it wasn’t long before Peter was spiraling back into despair and he curled into himself, shaking. The tears came in a rush and a sob escaped before he could muffle it with his hand. Peter heard Stephen turn and face him. “Peter, come here,” whispered Stephen. 

Peter didn’t protest, climbing to his feet and coming over to Stephen, wiping his tears with his forearm as he went. Stephen moved over and pat the space beside him and Peter laid down on his side, facing Stephen. The sorcerer tucked the boy’s head under his chin and brought an arm around him. Peter could feel Stephen trying to quell the trembling of his hands. 

“It’ll be okay, Peter,” said Stephen. 

“You keep saying that, but how do you know?” asked Peter in a raspy, small voice.

“Don’t you think Tony Stark is the greatest hero in the world? You don’t think he will save us?” 

It was the one bit of hope that Peter was clinging to. That Tony had gotten Karen’s distress call and had been able to get as much information about their situation as possible. That Tony had all of the Avengers working around the clock trying to find them. 

“Just go to sleep, Peter. This will be all over soon, I promise.”

Peter was next awoken by their captors poking him in the back, wanting Peter to move off the gurney so they could take Stephen. Peter did so reluctantly but couldn’t stop himself desperately addressing their captors, “Please don’t hurt him, okay? He’s already hurt enough.”

“Peter,” Stephen gritted out with a pointed look, stopping the boy from interacting too much with the guards. The teen walked slowly back to his bed, helplessly sitting on the edge of it as the door slammed shut again. 

Just a short while passed this time before the bolts were unlocking and the door swung open. But this time the door opening did not herald Stephen’s return. Instead, the guard with a rifle grabbed Peter’s skinny arm and forced him to his feet and then prodded him, giving him curt commands to walk into the hallway. 

From there Peter was ushered into a large open room, that almost looked like it had been a gymnasium at some point. At one end of the expansive concrete room was Stephen, crumpled on the ground, his hands struggling to keep himself from being completely prone. He had a variety of electrodes attached to his body and he was being overseen by the mysterious woman that had met with Peter. Against the wall was a team of men and woman looking at data on a series of computers set up on desks. 

“Now Doctor Strange, you know I didn’t want to do this,” said the woman as Peter was marched into the room, “I wanted to leave the boy out of it.” 

Stephen’s head strained upwards to look at Peter’s arrival, leaving a small puddle of blood on the concrete below that had dripped from his split and swollen lips. “Peter!” cried out Stephen in a sputter. 

The guard stopped Peter about twenty feet from Stephen, still holding a tight grip on the boy. The man slung the rifle onto his back and reached into the holster on his waist to pull out a handgun, aiming it against the side of Peter’s head. Peter tensed and screwed up his eyes, trying to suppress terrified tears. 

“Oh no, he’s knows we won’t sacrifice our bargaining chip so easily, start with something small, like his foot,” said the woman. The guard turned the gun downwards and shot into the concrete, purposely missing Peter’s foot by just an inch of so. Peter let out a scream and tried to instinctively twist himself out of the guard’s grip, but the much larger man held firm. 

Stephen at this point was on his feet again, and yelling at the woman, “Stop, please stop! I’ll do it, just please send him back to the cell.” 

“Well you better, or poor little Peter is going to have one of his fingers broken. You know what that is like, I know you do Doctor, you don’t want to object him to that do you?” asked the woman in a cold teasing voice. The guard held on to Peter as another guard came forward and grabbed the teen’s hand, holding his fingers and ready to snap them at the signal. Peter wasn’t hiding his tears anymore. 

Stephen held up his shaky hands, covered in gloves with flashing lights on them. Stephen looked at Peter and then looked forward at his hands, making a few gestures and suddenly Stephen, Peter, the guards and the women were surrounded by a large force field. Stephen held up the spell until he grew too drained and let his hands drop, the field dropping around them in a rain of sparks. 

The people at the computers ran about, analyzing whatever data that test had resulted in and the woman clapped. She walked over to Stephen, the clicking of her heels echoing throughout the room. “Excellent, Stephen! I knew you were more than a pretty face,” she said coming over and pulled his face down to her shorter height so she could lay a kiss on his cheek. The sorcerer grimaced in disgust. 

“Now send Peter back,” ground out Stephen through clenched teeth. 

“Yes, yes, a promise is a promise, you’ve been a good boy,” said the woman as she waved off the guards. Peter’s tears had turned to quiet sobs and he could barely coordinate walking as he was lead back into the cell. 

Peter collapsed on the gurney after the door had once again been shut and he curled up into the fetal position, the sobbing racking his body until he passed out from exhaustion. 

The next time he awoke it was to Stephen being taken out of the room and Peter wanted to scream and cling to him, horrified that he had slept through Stephen being returned to the room. But he just watched helplessly as Stephen was wheeled away again. 

This time, Stephen’s absence seemed to last forever, Peter paced, reluctantly ate and even  tried to do some push-ups but found that the drugs in his system tired him out too fast. He fell into a restless sleep, but shocked awake by an deafening explosion. 

He was on his feet instantly as he heard boots running down the hallway and the guards yelling orders. Peter thought he caught something about a “breach” and “secure the Doctor!”

More and more explosions followed, filling Peter’s cell with dust. He heard screaming from down the long corridors, and he felt both helpless and ready to fight. It seemed that the explosions were coming closer and closer and Peter went and crouched in the corner, not sure what to expect. 

Then a familiar voice called out, “Peter, if you’re in there stand back!” and then a blast took the door off its hinges, blowing it into the hallway. 

“Oh thank God,” said Rhodey when he looked into the room and saw Peter. “Are you okay, kid?” 

Peter stared up at James Rhodes in full War Machine armor, not truly believing he was there. “Yeah,” Peter managed to get out, “I’m alright, where’s Stephen?”

“Tony’s got him, we interrupted one of their torture sessions. He’s out so he couldn’t tell us where you were, I had to check every room. Can you walk?”

“Yeah, I’m not hurt, just drugged so don’t expect me to pick up any cars,” said Peter following Rhodey, the Colonel warning him to step over any glass or twisted metal as they moved “Is Stephen okay? You said he was out.”

“He’s alive, just really banged up. Looked like the captors were getting desperate, I’m glad we got here before you got pulled in, kiddo.”

Peter followed Rhodey down a hallway to a large room now flooded with daylight, the quinjet sitting surreally in the centre surrounded by debris and ruin. The restraints, and tools and equipment Peter had witnessed the day before were strewn about the floor. 

There were a lot of people getting taken into custody and being marched out of the building. He saw Natasha dealing with the woman he had met, her hair now falling out of her bun and scorn on her face. “I’m sure that you can appreciate the pursuit of science, Mr. Stark!” the woman shouted to a man crouching some distance from her. Peter could’ve cried with happiness to see Tony’s red Iron Man suit. But that happiness was short lived when he got closer.

Tony was almost sitting on the ground, an unconscious Stephen spread out in his lap. He was looking over the prostrate sorcerer, taking in all the cuts and bruises. He shouted back at Nat, “Romanoff, deal with that garbage, why don’t you? I don’t feel like dealing with someone with a human morality deficit today.” Nat harshly pushed the woman out of the room with the others. 

“Hey Tony, we found the kid,” called out Rhodey as they came towards Tony. Tony’s visor retracted and when he saw Peter his face was overcome with relief. “God kid, you and this guy here gave us quite the scare, you okay?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Stark. They only threatened me after they kidnapped us. Is Doc going to be alright though?” Peter’s voice was growing desperate. 

Tony looked down at the sorcerer cradled in his arms. Stephen’s lax face was discolored with bruises, as were his legs and arms, and new ones were probably going to form. He had cuts across his lips and left eyebrow that stood out starkly against his translucent skin. “His vitals are fine, bud, he’ll be okay,” said Tony, with a grim smile that Peter really wanted to believe.

Natasha came back into the room, holding the black orb that contained the Cloak. It was vibrating and shaking in her hands, probably sensing its master’s presence. “You want me to get them to open this, Stark?” she asked. 

“No,” said Tony, standing up and hefting Stephen’s limp body up in his arms. “It may get in the way of us taking care of Strange, just put it in the quinjet.” Peter followed behind Tony, not wanting to leave the Avenger’s side and walked up the hatch into the quinjet. 

Tony retracted the suit, the plating pulling back into the device on his chest until he was in his casual clothes. He laid Stephen down gently on a stretcher attached to the side of the plane and strapped him in. Tony attached adhesive pads to Stephen’s chest under the dirtied gown. The pads lit up upon contact and seemed to send information back to a monitor attached to the wall of the plane. 

He then pulled a phone out his pocket and handed it to Peter. “Your aunt has almost been beside herself, just say ‘Call May’ and you can tell her that you are alright. But first do you want to go with Nat and find some clothes?” 

Peter sat down in the jump seat next to Stephen, and shook his head. He didn’t want to leave Stephen’s side and he would also prefer to keep Tony close to him, feeling safe in the company of the genius and the doctor - even while bloodied and broken. Tony just nodded and said that he would find him something and bring it to him. 

Tony stayed close to the plane, only stepping out of the hold to converse with some of the authorities assessing the scene. Then he was given a pile of clothes that he tucked under his arm. 

During this time Peter video-called a frantic and relieved May who was almost hysterical over seeing Peter was safe. “Peter, I was so worried sweetie! Oh my god, I’m so happy to see you are safe.” May’s hair was limp and greasy and Peter could tell she hadn't slept in a few days. He felt a pang of guilt for worrying her and apologized. “Baby no! You couldn’t help what happened, I’m at the Compound and I’ll see you when you get back okay? Mr. Stark has been working so hard to find both of you.” 

Peter wrapped up the call just as Tony came back into the jet and gave him the clothes, setting Stephen’s sorcerer robes next to him on the stretcher. “We got you some sweatpants and a shirt, kiddo. You can change once we are airborne.”

“Where are we?” asked Peter. 

“Wyoming,” replied Tony, “Yeah, so there’s shit all out here except some crazy branch of Hydra agents who want to harness magic without any mediating or anything. So we are going to get our asses back to New York pronto.” Tony sat in the jump seat next to Peter and strapped himself in. He told him that Rhodey and Nat would be staying to oversee that the bad guys were completely taken care of. 

“Mr. Stark?” 

“Yeah, Peter?”

“Thank you, for saving us.”

Tony’s big brown eyes regarded Peter, before reaching over and ruffling his hair. 

Take-off happened fairly quickly and Tony listened to music while typing away on a Stark pad. Peter got changed in the spacious lavatory and spread out on a row of seats, not really sleeping. About an hour into the flight Stephen began to stir with a quiet groan and Peter was on his feet, seeing to the sorcerer. Tony also set aside his things and turned his attention to Strange. 

“Doctor Strange, can you hear me?” asked Peter. 

“Peter…what happened? Where are we?” asked Stephen blinking up. 

“Mr. Stark saved us! Like you said!” 

“Hiya Houdini, you had a lot of faith in me huh? Well I’m glad I didn’t let you down,” said Tony. 

“Tony? Tony, I’m sorry,” said Stephen, his eyes landing on the genius looking down on him. 

“Wait what? Sorry for what, wizard?” asked Tony, almost amused. 

“They only wanted me, not Peter. I should’ve protected him better,” said Stephen, voice strained with guilt. 

Tony shook his head in disbelief, “I mean, look at you, you’re black and blue and Peter doesn’t have a scratch on him. I think you did a good job.” 

“I could’ve done better, look,” said Stephen, pointing up at finger sized bruises on Peter’s arm where the guard had held him. 

“It’s just a couple of bruises, it was my fault for being there, Doc, you told me to leave and I didn’t listen,” said Peter. 

“Welcome to the ‘I was held captive and interrogated and forced to show off my skills’ club by the way. You can be my vice president,” said Tony trying to keep the conversation light. 

“Even though it was only a few days? Not months?” asked Stephen. 

“Yeah, you can still join,” said Tony reaching down to smooth down Stephen’s hair. “But no more scares like that, okay? Strange. Next time, you magic your way out of the situation.” 

“Maybe I just wanted you to carry me,” said Stephen. 

“Stephen, you don’t have to almost die for that to happen.” 

Stephen managed a wry smile, but winced in pain and soon drifted off back to sleep. It was mid-afternoon when they landed in New York at the Compound and they were met by Aunt May and a team of EMTs. May ran up to Peter and hugged him tight, tears flowing down her face. Peter hid his own tear-stained face in her shoulder. 

Tony didn’t leave Stephen’s side as the EMTs set him on their own stretcher, the orb holding the Cloak under Tony’s arm. They went off to the Compound’s clinic and May showed Peter to the rooms Stark had let her stay in, not that she was sleeping much being so worried about him. The first thing Peter wanted to do was take a long bath and after he had done that and dressed in comfy PJs he walked out of the bathroom and was met with a grand meal laid out on the table. Him and May dug in and Peter waved off dessert, saying he’d rather see how Stephen was doing. 

They followed FRIDAY’s instructions to the clinic and when they got to Stephen’s room they found that Tony was already there sitting at Stephen’s bedside, his feet propped up on the bed. They had been in the midst of talking and when Peter walked in Stephen’s eyes lit up. “Peter!” said the sorcerer, “You look comfortable.” 

Stephen was covered in bandages and was this time wearing a clean hospital gown. His hair had been washed and his goatee trimmed. Peter wouldn’t have noticed that last bit, but Tony pointed it out. “That’s my handiwork, I know a bit or two about taming a goatee,” he said proudly, helping Stephen sit up and fluffing some pillows to support his back. 

May came forward and gave Stephen a hug, being careful not to aggravate any wounds, thanking the man over and over for protecting Peter. “I didn’t really do anything,” said Stephen softly. Tony just scoffed and told her about Stephen letting the psychos do whatever they wanted to him to protect the teen. May gave Stephen a kiss on the forehead, making the doctor blush, and stepped out saying she’d let the boys have some alone time. 

Stephen gingerly relaxed into the pillows once she was gone and gave Peter a pointed look, “Next time, Peter, when I tell you to go, you go alright?”

“Not a chance,” said Peter stubbornly.

Tony barked out a laugh and slapped his knee, “That’s my boy!” 

Stephen sighed, knowing not to bother arguing, “Well maybe we should prepare for situations like this.”

“I think I should inject you two with undetectable chips to find your location,” said Tony. 

“That seems very invasive,” said Stephen. 

“Where are you going that you don’t want me knowing about, eh Strange? Now Peter I can understand, but you’re a boring old man, like me.” 

“I was thinking a spell would be a better option,” said Strange, ignoring Tony’s teasing. 

“You were going to let them kill you, I’m not going to let you handle this alone,” said Tony. 

“What…  _ my _ safety?” asked Stephen. 

“Yes!”

“I’ve died before, you know Stark.”

“What the hell does that even  _ mean _ ?” 

Peter was sat in an armchair by Stephen’s bed laughing at the two men going back and forth. A blind man could see they liked each other and Peter hoped they figured it out sooner rather than later. 

Peter’s eyes starting to droop and both men shooed him off to his and May’s rooms. After a few days of sleeping on a gurney, he fell asleep almost instantly in the king sized bed. 

His sleep was soon interrupted though and he jolted awake, thinking he was back in that cold, grim cell. But this time Stephen was nowhere to be seen. His aunt was sleeping beside in the bed, and he was happy that he hadn’t awoken her. A quick look at the clock told him it was 4am. 

Sleep wasn’t coming back so Peter pulled himself up and quietly made his way back down to the clinic, wanting to peek in on Stephen just to make sure he was okay, but when he stuck his head through the door he was surprised to find the sorcerer wasn’t alone. 

Another hospital bed had been moved against Stephen’s and Tony, still fully clothed, was asleep on his side on it, an arm stretched out with his hand wrapped around one of Stephen’s. Both men were sleeping peacefully. 

Peter ducked out, smiling to himself. He thought - and hoped - maybe they would figure it out soon. But for now, he headed to the kitchen, determined to make pancakes for the favorite adults in his life. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and/or comments make a happy active author :)  
> find me on Tumblr at stephenstrangeisaho


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